Three Dollars
by S. Arke
Summary: Bucky had a life before the war and before Hydra. Her name was Dot. (One-shot for now)


His face stuck in what felt like a permanent smile. He had probably been walking for miles…or mere minutes—he wasn't necessarily keeping track. All he could think about was the beautiful redhead with the stuffed bear beside him. Three whole dollars he'd spent trying to win it for her, but the look on her face when the carnival employee handed it over was priceless. He would have spent all the money in his pocket just to see her smile at him with those lips he so desperately wanted to kiss. As a matter of fact, he did. Spending his last cent on some hotdogs earlier in the day, he realized that hitchhiking back to Brooklyn from Rockaway Beach was in the near future. At this point and with his luck, he and his best friend would probably have to stow away in a freezer truck just to get home. Still, it was worth it. Three dollars was nothing. He smiled to himself.

"Bucky?" she said as she looked up at him with those blue eyes he adored.

"Yes, Dot?" he said to her sincerely.

"What time is it?" she asked. "My daddy said I have to be home by ten, and I still have to find my friend—I left her with your friend, Steve."

"Oh, she'll be fine," Bucky laughed. The feeling of her delicate arm laced through his as he escorted her down the sidewalk was almost Heaven. He didn't want it to end. "We still have fifteen minutes before you have to start heading home."

"Oh, Bucky," she sighed as she leaned into him. "This has been one of the best nights of my life. I wish I would've met you sooner—or that the war didn't exist. Why does the world have to take you away from me so soon?"

That statement brought Bucky back down from Cloud 9. He suddenly became all-too-aware of the itchiness of the freshly pressed soldier's uniform he was wearing, and the heaviness of his combat boots suddenly made his feet feel like cement. While his beautiful Dot had to be home by ten, he had to be on a bus to Camp McCoy in Wisconsin with a hundred other men to go fight a war caused by some guy who thought it a good idea to bully people on a multi-national scale.

Was it selfish for him to suddenly want to be more like his best buddy, Steve? Steve—who even at his short stature with all his health problems—wanted to go fight the bullies but couldn't. Was it bad to wish they could switch names and war papers, so he could go while Bucky stayed here to continue his wooing endeavors with the gorgeous redhead on his arm? Out of all the women he'd slicked his hair back for, Dot was the one who made him do a double take in the mirror to make sure every hair was in place. It truly was a shame he didn't know her sooner—so he could ditch the womanizer reputation he'd acquired and spend his days with this woman with the red curls and her new stuffed bear.

The reality of his thoughts led the couple to a nearby bench. They sat down, and he pulled something off of his finger.

"Dolores Magdalena Morgan," he said as he placed the tiny object in her small hands, "I cannot promise you that tomorrow will bring sunshine and rainbows and happiness."

Bucky then bent down and pulled the lace from his left boot.

Dot began to say something, but Bucky cut her off, "However, I can promise you that no matter what happens to me over there, you will always have something of mine to remember me by. I would ask you to go steady with me, but the timing is the exact opposite of ideal."

The tiny object was Bucky's class ring. Silver in band and aquamarine in gem color (as his birthday was in March), the ring shined in the moonlight as he strung it on the boot lace.

Dot gasped, "Bucky, it's gorgeous. I would say yes anyway."

"At twenty-five, it seems a bit juvenile of me," he laughed as the ring continued to twinkle, "but it's all I have right now. Now, Dot, I don't want you telling me you'll wait for me. I don't know how long this war is going to last, and it isn't fair to you to be steady with a man who can't be here for you. So, I'm going to put this around the bear's neck. That way you're not wearing it and making other men think you're taken."

He placed the now tied shoestring around the stuffed bear's neck. Dot questioned, "Why would it matter, Bucky?"

"Because if a worthy man decides to care for you as I do," he began, "I want to give you the opportunity to love him without seeing me on your finger every day. I can't care for you like someone here could. I wish things were different, Dot. I wish this war didn't exist. If that were so, I would see you every day: I'd hold you when you cry, laugh with you when you're happy, and love you like no man has ever loved you before."

Tears formed in Dot's eyes, but they didn't spill over. He was glad for that. He couldn't bear it.

"Bucky…" she whimpered.

"I'm not saying this is goodbye," Bucky said. "I'm saying it's 'until we meet again', darling."

Bucky kissed Dot on her cheek as she clutched the bear in her arms, "C'mon, beautiful. Let's go find Steve and Connie and get you two beautiful women home."

Dot slept that night clutching Bucky's ring and the bear close to her chest—its off-white color all but matching her pale skin.

All Bucky had of Dot was the memory of their time together…and three less dollars in his pocket. He didn't regret it, though—three dollars was still nothing.


End file.
